


Everything Works Out

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Ready For The Siege [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Asgard, Asgardian Culture, Avengers in Asgard, F/M, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-26 06:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4993777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selene is dead. Time to deal with everything now that it's all over...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Thoughts Are Considered

James arrived in Tony's workshop with a sour look on his face. "Don't gloat, but my arm ain't working right."

Tony, who had been hammering out dings in all the armors, didn't look gleeful. "C'mere, Barnes. Let's take a look. I need a break, anyway."

"You got a bunch of those, though," James said, nodding at the rows of armor on the other side of the workshop.

"Pep doesn't, and Rhodey's just got the one. Plus, I'm pretty partial to the Mark 43." He flashed James a grin while setting the scanner for his arm. "At least the arm didn't get fried by the ashy bolt of demon fire."

"Don't feel too lucky," James muttered. "Steve nearly died."

"But didn't," Tony pointed out as the scanner whirred. "We'll be heading to Asgard for the funeral rites. I don't think Horns got special dispensation for that, though."

"He's not quite right in the head right now," James remarked blandly. "I don't think he'll mind."

"Probably not," Tony agreed. He glanced at the 3D model as the scanner generated it. "Well, some of the cooling lines got wrenched out of place, some of the servos are crushed, the mechanical tendon over here is snapped, and that one's close to breaking, too."

"So can you fix it?"

Tony shot him an almost irritated look. "Barnes, you totaled that arm." He ignored James' sigh. "Lucky for you, I've been tinkering with new designs for you."

"Tony..." James began in a warning tone.

"Relax, Barnes. Not interested in having a flashbacking angry assassin that knows where I live after me. It _is_ lighter than this monstrosity, but hopefully not enough to throw things off or not feel like your arm." Tony swiftly moved to a locked cabinet that James hadn't noticed before. "More function and form, but still incredibly useful. Vibranium outer shell to give you the same bulletproof goodness, and the central core is wrapped in vibranium, too. The rest of the piping and servos are lighter, smoother glide, runs cooler. And..." Tony whipped out the arm and presented it with a flourish and smile. "I skinned it. It's not fabric and not synthetic skin, but still waterproof and should pass cursory inspection. As in, no more long sleeves in summer unless you're playing in a goth band."

"I'm going to pretend I understood that reference and move on from there," James replied wryly.

Laughing, Tony laid the arm down on the tablet next to James. "I think you'll like it. Since it's a little lighter, it'll pull on the collarbone less, distort the musculature _a lot_ less, and shouldn't stretch out your tendons too much. In other words, it should cause you a lot less pain to use." He flashed James a self-conscious grin. "Yeah, I designed it with consultation from Dr. Calderon. She was _horrified_ by the mechanics of the current arm, by the way. Hippocratic Oath or not, I'm sure she'd love to knife the guys that designed that one," he said, pointing to the current arm with a stylus.

James stared at the holographic image of his current arm with its internal damage and then the image of the new arm. "I'll take your word for it," he said finally. "Looks cleaner."

"Exactly!" Tony cried, pleased.

He heaved a dramatic sigh, not looking forward to the surgical reconstruction. Perhaps when Dr. Calderon was done patching up Steve, she would actually sedate him. It would be nice to not be conscious for it this time. "Fine, fine. Change the arm, Dr. Frankenstein."

Tony gave a melodramatic movie villain laugh. "I just need an Igor. DUM-E, c'mere. You're my Igor." The bot in question came closer, eagerly bumping into James and tapping its arm against James' arm. "Yeah, we're changing that out."

James sighed a little. "Don't put yourself out."

"Are you kidding? This is nothing. I reined myself in."

"I'd hate to see what you do when you cut loose."

Tony laughed and nodded at the suits. "You see those?" He grinned proudly. "That's just me having fun, though."

"Eh, get to work, Stark. Enough yakking."

Pleased, he did just that. James was surprised that Tony didn't wait for Dr. Calderon, but started diving in and disassembling the different plates of the arm. "Just lemme know if I'm tugging too hard or if I need to do something different," Tony informed him.

"You're not gonna knock me out or need the doc?"

Looking at him in concern, Tony stopped removing the outer plates. "What? Why? Does this hurt, doing it? This really shouldn't, because they're not anchored to the inner core or connected to nerve endings. I didn't think I was yanking too hard."

"You're not. But you know, when they put in the arm before, they didn't sedate me or use any pain meds. Metabolism burns through it too fast anyway."

Tony's jaw tightened a fraction, and then he let out a slow breath. "Okay. I'm not down with the pain and torture routine, okay? Been there, done that. _Never_ going to do that again. If we need the doc to help, I will absolutely stop and you are damn well going to get pain meds if we need to do actual surgery, okay? But I designed this arm specifically to work with the neural connections that are already there. I wanted this to be as painless as possible for you to get used to it quickly. I'm hoping you'll have even finer tune sense of motion out of it."

"Huh." James blinked in surprise. "Thanks, Stark."

He grunted. "Not used to being treated as a person?" He nodded when James did. "Yeah, well, murderous assassining aside, you're a person. With a nasty prosthetic that's got to go. This thing is a travesty of engineering. Trust me, the new one is going to be wonderful and you're going to wish you let me do this months ago."

James rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile. "Show off."

"Nah. Pure talent." Tony grinned and set about getting back to work.

Surprisingly enough for James, there was no need for Dr. Calderon, pain medication or sedation.

***

The ten rings of power that James had taken from Loki were currently collected in an old fabric bag that once held a bottle of Crown Royal. James had hidden it in the vent of Natasha's living room before seeking out Tony Stark to repair his arm, hoping it was a good enough spot.

It wasn't.

Loki stood in the living room, staring at the vent cover without blinking. He was sweaty, hair sticking to him in clumps, his clothing disheveled. The rings called to him, begging to be worn and used. _You need us,_ they called. _You need us now._

He didn't hear anything but their call. Even a strike to the face didn't do it, nor the taste of blood in his mouth from a split lip. His feet didn't move; Natasha had told him to stay put before he lost contact with his sense, and he had promised he would. Deep down, he knew how important it was to keep his promise to her. If he broke it, he broke faith with her, and he might never be able to get it back.

The cold press of black metal chains around his wrists brought him back to reality. Natasha was there, concern on her face, binding him to his body and negating the pull of magic.

"Come on, Loki. You need to lie down."

"I need them." His voice didn't even sound like his own. Something was wrong with him, wasn't there? Wait, that was silly. Of course there was something wrong with him. There was always something wrong with him. That's why he was banished to this realm he had just shut off, and why no one else could care for him—

"No, you don't," she murmured, leading him into her bedroom. A loop of chain around his waist seemed to anchor him further into his body. "You need to sleep. You haven't slept in at least twenty-four hours."

"I don't need sleep," he replied. Was he whining? How very undignified.

"Then lie down with me. You'll protect me, won't you?"

"Oh. Of course." He let her bring him to her bed, and he laid down on it, bound hands held out in front of him. "I promised to protect you."

Natasha straddled his waist and held his hands in hers. "Tell me what you see."

He stuttered and shivered at times while whispering about the variations of their lives that he had seen. "I still feel them. I still see it. They haven't faded with time."

"Tell me why it matters," she insisted.

"Because you loved me. Because I mattered to you."

"I do in this reality," she pointed out.

"I didn't think you meant that," he admitted.

"Do you think I'd lie to you? And about something as important as that?" she asked archly.

Loki's chest burned, and he struggled not to look away. "I couldn't tell. You needed me to save your world."

"Our world. This is your home, too."

"What do I do next?" Loki murmured. "Selene is dead, Hel is dangerous and unfathomable, Thanos is still out there, and there are innumerable dangers in the universe. I cannot protect you from them all. I can't even protect myself."

Natasha laid herself down over his body and kissed him gently. "But you still try. You haven't given up."

He looked at her critically, something harsh and ugly twisting in his chest. "Would you offer your body to me, then? Is that what this is about? Much like in the beginning, you offer yourself to me as an appeasement?"

She instantly shifted off of him, eyes narrowing in irritation. "I've actually told you the truth," she replied icily.

"I had to be sure—"

"Save it," she told him. Another length of chain landed on his chest, and he felt pinned in place, helpless and at her mercy. And he'd just angered her. What a fool he was.

"We're missing something," she said, voice cold and even. Of course it was. She was trained to shut off her emotions, to work despite them, to consider herself last. Her eyes raked over him. "I can give you the benefit of the doubt, say the rings fucked you up."

"I _need_ them!" Loki heard himself say, snarling at her and trying to push off the damned black chains. "You don't know what you're doing, keeping them from me!"

"I think I know exactly what I'm doing." She turned and grasped the twin swords from the stand on her dresser. She spun around with them, flipping the catch and separating them. "Do I put you down now? Or keep giving you the benefit of a doubt?"

Something like regret washed through him, an ice cold chill that momentarily washed away the power hungry madness. "Do it. Save yourself from me. Save them all from me. I'll hurt you if you don't. I don't know how else to be. This is what I am." He lifted his chin, exposing his throat, and didn't even flinch when she brought the blade against it.

But then she pulled it away and connected the swords together. "Not today." She replaced the swords on the stand on her dresser. "We need those rings gone. Maybe we should just destroy them, get it over with."

"The backlash will be immense."

Natasha watched him steadily. "They're more powerful now. Why?"

"Perhaps charged by the closeness to Yggdrasil. They were kept safe, hidden by the Tree, forgotten by all but us." Loki heaved a breath, so tired. The cloying fear he used to have of this was gone. The chains actually felt comforting now. "If I hadn't spoken, you would've bedded me to ease my mind," he guessed.

"Maybe," she shrugged, unconcerned.

"Even at risk of siring a child?"

"I have that worked out."

"The condoms you mean? You have them here?"

"You really haven't been paying any attention, have you?"

Loki sighed. "I don't know what's happening anymore," he admitted softly.

"We'll get rid of the rings, then talk."

"Wait!" he cried desperately. "You can't wear them!"

"I'm aware," she said dryly. "Don't worry. I've planned ahead. I know what I'm doing."

He was glad _someone_ did.

***

Asgard funerals were large community affairs. In this case, there was no body to mourn; even the ashes had been lost at Devil's Bridge. Memorials instead were placed into the seven skiffs to symbolize the fallen warriors that had come from Asgard to aid Earth. Natasha dressed in her Asgardian robes, and coached Wanda on how to dress since Loki had been passed out in her suite and all but useless. Jane had previous experience, and gave Darcy advice. Sif helped Carol and Pepper into appropriate wear as well. Natasha had figured it was the least they could do, given they were honoring the memory of Asgardian warriors.

Odin and Frigga didn't comment on their appearance, but smiled warmly and invited them all into the palace to oversee the festivities. Families of each warrior had put together the memorial skiffs, and the head of each household lit the arrow that would be shot at it once it was set adrift. The assembled crowd also let out small lanterns, lighting up the night sky with thousands of the lit offerings. "Air and fire," Frigga told them gently, pain evident, "carries our souls to Valhalla if we lived well."

"What about Helheim?" Carol asked, frowning.

"The ordinary dead. Or those who lived not so well."

"What defines well?" Steve asked, leaning on his crutches beside Sif.

"Adding to the glory of the realm or your House. Death in the service of the Allfather," Odin said, voice a bit ponderous. His gaze skipped over Natasha as he took in the assembled Avengers and their friends that had aided in distracting Selene. "The battle you had waged for your realm would of course send you to Valhalla."

"Hopefully not any time soon," Tony remarked.

Odin turned his eye toward him. "Indeed not. Come. There is a feast in the Great Hall. Our honored dead will be celebrated, their bravery told of in song."

Much of the feasting went by in a blur; Asgardian mead was far more potent than most beer or wines, and there were far too many nobles to meet and greet. Natasha was pulled off to the side by a few ladies she spoke with in low voices, and she smiled politely at all the right people that she had met before. She introduced the humans and their role in the battle at Devil's Bridge; the name of the location itself impressed many of the fickle Asgardian nobles.

"And when will you stay here once again?" one woman asked Natasha. She was blonde with a pinched expression, as if she only asked out of politeness.

"I will of course travel as necessary. Right now, there are still things to take care of on Midgard after the battle," Natasha replied politely. Some of the Avengers caught her tone and closed ranks around her. "There have been a great many complications recently."

"Perhaps you should try to figure a way to visit Midgard," Carol said, using the same tone of voice she usually used with Air Force superiors she disagreed with. "You know, come see what the realm is like for yourself. I'm sure you'd enjoy seeing it. Then you don't have to wait for stories or Ambassadors to go back and forth. All those affairs of state and safety can make it really difficult for those parties to happen on a regular basis, after all. The social scene has to come second to safety of the realm."

The woman made her excuses to leave, and Carol snickered, glancing at Natasha. "Wow. They exist wherever you go."

"I didn't lie about that," Natasha replied, sipping her drink. "It was a nice break, but I would still prefer Earth to here."

Carol nodded after a moment, catching sight of Rhodey out of the corner of her eye being chatted up by a collection of nobles. "I know what you mean. There's no place like home, wherever that would be."

And home for Natasha was being at the Tower, surrounded by the others.

***

Having the rings must have been like a drug; by the third day without it, Loki was a sweaty, shivering mess whose screams for the return of the rings could be heard through walls. It made poor Wanda nearly break down in tears, and Carol looked at them all as if they were insane. "And you let him go get those things when you knew it was going to do this? I mean, he's not the world's favorite guy, but this is just cruel."

"No, we didn't know. It changed him before, but not like this," Natasha told her tersely.

Carol didn't apologize for thinking the worst of her, but at least looked contrite. Sam stopped by with milkshakes and French fries to try to talk Loki down, and upon his return from Asgard, Steve took a turn with James. Natasha, in the meantime, had brought the rings to Astoria and hid them inside the coiled length of chain that had held Loki. The chain there was longer, and easier to cover the entire velveteen bag. Though Loki was dismissive of Dr. Strange, she fully intended to have him help her destroy the rings or lock them away where Loki could never get them again.

When she returned to the tower, she was surprised to see Bruce sitting in the kitchen with Betty Ross. The two had their hands clasped, talking softly with one another. Natasha backed out slowly and headed down the hall, only to bump into Jane, an armful of books with her. "Hi, Natasha. Good to see you. Loki sounds better today."

"In that he isn't screaming about decorating with our entrails?" she asked wryly.

"That helps," Jane agreed with a smile. "We're going to pool resources for the gamma radiation detectors. Should detect all the odd kinds of magic that's been showing up recently. And maybe if we get a good scan of those rings, we can see if there are ways we can reverse the resonant frequencies. That might make it easier to dispose of them."

"Sounds good," Natasha told her, meaning it. "I doubt I can be of help, but if you think of something, let me know."

"I will definitely let you know. Thor is getting a few of his mother's magic items for me to scan, that kind of thing."

"Clint referred to me as a magic item." The instant the words left her mouth, Natasha felt silly.

Jane lit up. "That's right! I forgot! Once we have everything set, maybe we can scan you, too."

Natasha gave her a wan smile and nod, then retreated. Steve and James were still in her suite with Loki, playing cards as he fitfully slept. "Hey, Natasha," Steve said in low tones. "Clint was looking for you. Why don't you go find him? We got this."

"He could've called," Natasha replied, with a shrug, pulling out her phone. No missed calls or texts while she was out doing errands.

"Wasn't an emergency," James said. "Whenever you were ready. But Loki's out for a while most likely, so you might as well go now."

"I'm guessing it has to do with the magic detector that they're building?" Steve looked up from his hand at her question, expression grim. "I guess I'm not the only one troubled by what had happened in Sedona, then."

"Safe to say, no," Steve replied.

"Maybe that's what Clint wanted to talk about, then," She peered over James' shoulder at his hand and kissed his cheek. "Rummy?" she asked.

"Practicing fine motor control," James replied, putting the cards down to waggle the fingers of his left hand. "Got an upgrade, and it's lighter. Still getting used to it."

She gave him a grin and kissed his cheek again. "We can test it later."

"I _am_ still in the room," Steve reminded them mildly, discarding a card and drawing another. "At least wait until I leave."

Natasha laughed and playfully ruffled his hair. "I'm going, I'm going. Tell Sif hi for me."

Steve's expression softened and he nodded before shifting in his seat. His leg was still splinted to be sure the bone was healing correctly, and sometimes they dug into his leg.

Natasha asked Jarvis where Clint was, and discovered he was at the range with Darcy. Picking up her Glocks, she headed down to the range to join them. Apparently, Clint was giving Darcy lessons on how to use a pistol correctly. She watched them together a bit, pleased her best friend looked so happy and relaxed, even with the undercurrent of tension in the air.

Darcy noticed her first. "I'm no sharpshooter," she called out as she took off her headgear, "but I'm not bad in a pinch. A little different from my taser, though."

Nodding a little, Natasha glanced over at Clint. "I wasn't sure if you wanted me to crash this party, or if I should find you later."

"Crash away. I was thinking aloud about stuff, bouncing 'em off Darcy until you got back from doing whatever."

"Thinking about what?" Natasha asked, not even taking out her pistols yet.

"Things are happening, a lot of them. And I think there are a helluva lot of red herrings tossed in with everything else going on. Plus, you have to consider the lifetimes of the people we're dealing with here."

"You think the Asgardians are playing a long game with us?"

"Not them. Hel." At Natasha's blink of surprise, Clint held up a hand. "Hear me out. It was what you said before. You know, how she was only able to survive because of magic. That's why she couldn't handle Selene alone. It makes perfect sense, but not why she couldn't just ask you to do that. The two of you are pretty chummy as far as gods go, right? You can show up whenever and ask for help. Or in Japan, she just showed up because her seers told her it was a good time to."

"But she didn't ask me. She asked Loki."

"Right. And of course he'd need the rest of us to make it work. He didn't even do the planning for it, the rest of us did. He went off to get the rings of everloving fucking crazy."

"Without which he might not have been able to prevent Selene from leaving."

Clint held up a hand. "Which, okay, understandable why he'd go for them. Hel knows he has them, right? She's got seers and spooky sense of magic stuff, given she's made of magic. She brought you back from the dead because she likes you, and you're one of the few people that can control Loki even when he's batshit crazy. But she didn't have to give you a womb while she was at it. Unlike the other stuff happening, I don't think that was a red herring."

Natasha lofted an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"Other than having you freak out, which she must have heard about from her seers, there has to be a reason for that. She wouldn't bring you back from the dead like that without a damn good reason." Natasha nodded along with him, given that had been her thought also. "Now, I know you keep talking about ledgers, and that's your way to mentally balance things."

"I had to make up for what I did in the past," she reminded him.

"Yes, and I understand that. But when you died, that was the ultimate sacrifice to try to save lives. Six billion lives, give or take. That put you way in the black by any accounting, even with you adding in going off after James and Yelena." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. "C'mon, Tash, I know you. You added in those deaths to the red in your ledger, even if you didn't kill them all yourself."

Sighing, Natasha nodded. "They wouldn't have died if I could control them."

"Never mind it wasn't your job _ever_ and that was not an undertaking you should've taken alone, I don't care what Fury or Sitwell made you think," Clint replied, shaking his head. "The slate got wiped clean when you died. So now you're back, alive again, same skill set, but an empty ledger you can do whatever you want with."

"It doesn't mean that I would return to the path the Red Room set—"

"No, no," Darcy interrupted, shaking her head. "We weren't thinking of that."

"So, when we first started throwing that idea of why Hel would want you alive back and forth—"

"Not to sound like a creeper," Darcy interrupted, hands up in a supplicating gesture. "'Cause you know, upset assassin types are not my intention at all." She shot Clint a meaningful look. "And with everyone freaking out about the magic vampire sucking magic out of the world, I also called up a few people at Culver who know a bit about Norse mythology. Loki in various myths had different kids, right? Hel being one of them, with a giant, along with a big ass snake and a wolf that's going to eat the moon or something. Plus a set of twins that get slaughtered because Loki was a dick and the other Aesir thought it would be a righteous punishment." She waved her hands about as she shook her head. "We're going to ignore the details and who the mother was and all of that. The myths on record don't match what we know of Asgardians anyway." Clasping her hands together, she looked at Natasha's patient expression. "There was only one girl out of the five, and that was Hel. Queen over the realm of the dead, all that matches what actually exists. The others were all boys."

At her pause, Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. "The point being?"

"What if Loki only gets to keep the boys?"

"Excuse me?"

"Hel's his daughter," Darcy pressed. "The myths all had him taking care of boys. And yeah, we can get into gender politics and cultural significance in Norse mythology, but other myths had daughters in them, and they weren't all treated like crap. Loki only has one daughter in myths, and he didn't get to keep her. She had to rule over the dead. Now, the Hel we know is dead, and magic had to be used to keep her alive enough to rule. As far as we know, only magic users can spawn a Hel, right?"

"He seemed to imply as much," Natasha said with a nod.

"He's the only one we know, and he made it sound like magicians of his kind are rare."

"Asgardian males don't learn magic. They see it as a womanly art."

Darcy winced. "Ye-ah. Okay. That just adds to my theory then."

"Which is?" Natasha prompted.

"Hel wants a baby. But not any baby. A _magic_ baby that she can raise," Darcy said, waggling her fingers the way Wanda did when casting as she said the word 'magic.' She pressed her lips together and gave Natasha a searching look. "There's only one magic dude we all know of, and that's her dad. And that's just sick, so of course he's off limits for her. If she asked you to hand over a baby, would you?"

"I don't even know if I want one!" Natasha blurted, disconcerted by Darcy's line of thought.

"Exactly. But if she doesn't tell you about it, or something happens and you miscarry..." Her mouth twisted in discomfort as Natasha pressed a hand to her belly and grimaced. "Yeah. Dead magic baby she can raise, right? That was my thought on all this."

Clint gave Natasha a pointed look. "She can afford to play the long game. If you don't want a kid now or years from now, she can wait. But she's planning for the future." He paused. "Do you know what happened to her mother?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. I want to say she just... died. But there are so many dead in Helheim, and she and the realm are practically one and the same."

"So we don't know what happens to all that magic. Other than the magicians we know of around these parts, which is not the same kind of magic that they do, we really don't know anything about the old people." Darcy paused and bit her lip. "What if the magic drives them all crazy if they have too much of it? Like that's why human magicians can get old and grizzled, but Loki calls it baby magic. What if the Asgardian brand of magic just makes them all crazy?"

"Then Hel is going to need a child," Clint said gently when Natasha's lips parted. "Because as crazy as Loki looks to us now, he barely wore those rings. And Hel just ate a magic vampire heart and controls her soul." He paused and looked at her. "Is it just me, or does this sound like a recipe for trouble?"

Shaking her head, Natasha reached for headgear. "No, that doesn't sound crazy at all. Definitely troublesome and not a problem I really want to contemplate, but probably likely."

And if that was the case, Natasha didn't know how she was going to be able to stop the Queen of the Dead from getting exactly what she wanted.

***  
***


	2. In Which Realizations Are Had

Natasha found Loki in one of the common areas with Wanda. Both were casually dressed, and Loki was looking almost like his old self. His skin was sallow and the shadows under his eyes were as dark as bruises, his hair a little too long and disheveled. But the light in his eyes was his own, at least, and he wasn't shivering like a junkie in need of a fix. James had told her how Wanda and Dr. Strange had showed up soon after she met with Clint and Darcy to talk. Wanda had done her "wiggly finger thing" and peered between them as if she had been playing Cat's Cradle without string. Dr. Strange had looked intrigued, as if he was learning something new, and they talked about destiny and futures and the interminable will of magic users as if James and Steve weren't even there. Dr. Strange had done something, and then Wanda had put her hands down. Loki's breathing had gotten easier after that, as if a fever had broken; just seeing that had made James remember what it had been like in the thirties, anxious about Steve during his asthma attacks and feeling helpless to stop them. The memory hadn't triggered any flashbacks for him, which James had been incredibly proud to report.

Loki was now lobbing small objects at Wanda as they sat on the floor. They all bounced off an invisible force field around her, and Natasha found herself smiling. Wanda had her eyes closed inside her bubble, and she was sitting calmly as if meditating. Loki looked up at Natasha in the doorway, his lips curling into a warm smile. "How lovely," he purred, throwing a stapler at Wanda's head. It still bounced off the field, and he caught it before it could strike him. "Your concentration is getting much better. Even with distractions you're keeping it up."

"I've been practicing," Wanda replied, breathing still even and eyes closed. "I like this a lot better than your duplication spells. Those still creep me out."

Loki had been lobbing items at the field as she spoke, and all bounced off. "We may be able to add movement soon."

Wanda's eyes snapped open, and the pen Loki was throwing passed right through to her forehead in her surprise. "Really?"

"You should keep your attention on the field at all times," he admonished her as she fumbled to catch the pen as it fell. "But yes, we possibly could."

Her gaze followed his to Natasha. "Ah. I get a break now, is that it?"

He actually laughed and gracefully rose to his feet. A simple spell collected the miscellaneous items and returned them to the desk in the corner of the den. "Keep practicing your spell work, Wanda. How else will you master practical application?"

She pulled a face but rose to her feet as well. "Pietro would love throwing things at my head, so I can still practice the protection spell you taught me." She waved at Natasha and headed out of the den, presumably to wherever Pietro spent his free time during the day.

With a flourish, Loki pulled Natasha close and kissed her full on the mouth, tongue touching the seam of her lips. "You grace me with your presence during one of your practice times," he murmured, hands running down her back possessively. "What do you need?"

Natasha gave him a wry smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"You have something on your mind."

Nodding, Natasha ran her own hands down Loki's back. "I need to talk to Hel. About what she's done and why."

Loki's expression froze in place. "Don't anger her. Don't make her take back your life."

Natasha leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "Not my intention. But I need to talk to her, to clear things up for myself. I can't go forward until I've done that."

"You don't need to have a child," Loki said quietly, caressing her. "I do not expect that of you, no matter what I've seen. I put no pressure on you."

"And James doesn't, either. But it's not up to you or him. It's my decision, and I don't know what I want. I still need to know _why_ she did this. I can't be someone's puppet anymore, surely you understand that. I need to know my decisions are my own."

He kissed her again, softly. "They always have and always will be your own. I couldn't ever manipulate you properly, if you remember?" he added, lips twisting into a rueful smile. "You are the only one who could ever best me."

"It's not a contest. But thank you," she murmured, lifting to her tip toes to brush a kiss across his lips. "I know you're trying to make me feel better."

"Did you want to do this now?"

"Best to get this over with," she said, nodding.

Loki nodded, his expression shuttering a bit. "Let me make the preparations. Perhaps my suite would be best for this."

Natasha stopped him, fingers digging hard into his arm so he wouldn't turn away from her. "I'm coming back, Loki. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

"You can't promise such a thing," Loki said slowly. "She gave you the gift of a second lifetime, and she could very well take it away simply to punish me."

"She likes me," Natasha replied quietly. "Maybe she thought this was a gift. Maybe there really isn't a nefarious purpose. But I need to know so I can really start over."

"Can you? Start anew, like you're a new woman?"

Now she smiled, a little sadness in the tilt of her lips. "I can try. I'm telling myself if I know why she did this to me, if I can figure out her plan, I can figure out how to continue. I'll be able to decide who I'm supposed to be now."

"We are all starting anew, are we not?" Loki asked, a defeated slump to his shoulders. "Too many lost souls in this place. Too much that's broken."

"Not irreparably so," Natasha told him gently, letting go of his arm.

Nodding, Loki led the way to his suite. He had all the necessary herbs, candles and chalks to make a ring on the floor of his empty living room. Natasha stepped inside of it and then sat down cross legged as he began to chant. She kept eye contact until the wind rushed up from the fragrant circle, as if her own version of the Bifrost was being created, making it impossible for her to keep her eyes open any longer.

When she opened them, she was just outside of Hel's castle. There were the gargoyles at the top of the gates looking down at her. "Should I climb up to say hello?" she called up with a smile.

 _You are living, not dead. It would not be appropriate any longer,_ one of the gargoyles replied in amusement. _Our Queen is expecting you, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. You still are welcome here._

"Thank you," Natasha replied, nonplused.

It was a short and familiar trip to the throne room. Hel was seated, a large golden headdress casting dark shadows over her eyes. The multiple horns studding its circumference angled up and out, almost like smaller versions of Loki's horned helm. Her dress was golden in color to match the headdress, with woven black into the threads. Natasha couldn't tell what runes were woven into it, but she could feel the pull of magic in the fabric, flashing black and gold as Hel leaned forward, lips curling into a smile.

"You have come to visit," Hel said, her voice as soft as leaves fluttering past gravestones. "I would be very flattered, but there is a purpose to you."

Natasha nodded and looked into the shadows where Hel's eyes would be. "Why did you send me back when I was dead?"

"You did want to return to life," Hel pointed out.

"Why would you offer that? When you didn't offer it to anyone else?"

"Do you think you were the only one?"

That gave her pause, because yes, she had thought that. "Why give me a uterus?" she asked, unable to hide the roiling emotions. "What purpose would that have for you?"

"For me?" Hel asked, sounding rather amused. "Why would it have a purpose for me?"

"So you wouldn't have to bear your own child."

Hel smiled, a cruel kind of amusement in her expression. "Yes, any child of yours that dies will be mine. That's the way of all things, though."

Unable to bear Hel's games, Natasha's lips trembled. She was so _tired_ of this, and didn't want to play these kinds of games anymore. She was done with emotionally manipulating others, of playing to another's tune, of jerking along with someone else's marionette strings. For better or for worse, she would only be her own woman, and would serve her own interests. "What do you want from me? Just tell me plainly what you want."

She leaned back in her throne, smile sliding off of her face. "Even knowing this was coming, I still haven't planned the words to say," she mused. "I suppose I should have. Or had one of our poets come up with some pretty words. Bring back one of your past lovers to tell you for me."

"Queen Hel," Natasha said softly, shoulders slumped slightly. _"Please."_

"You beg so prettily," Hel murmured. "For I know that's what this is." She stood, horned circlet disappearing. Now instead of appearing intimidating, her expression seemed somewhat sad, as if she was watching something heartbreaking. Extending a hand for Natasha to take, she came down the dais and looked at Natasha expectantly. Though she did so reluctantly, Hel gave her hand a squeeze as if they were close friends. "Walk with me."

The scenery around them seemed to shift and blur, one room melting into another with dizzying speed. They were in a garden that reminded Natasha of Frigga's private sanctuary on Asgard, complete with stone benches and statuary of mythological figures.

"Your choices were taken from you when you were still a child," Hel began, fingers still linked through Natasha's. "Decisions were made for you. Even when you thought your choices were your own, they were not."

"Did you think this was giving me a choice?" Natasha asked tightly.

"Of course," Hel asked in surprise.

"Shouldn't you have _asked_ me about it?"

Hel paused, head tilted to the side. "Though I am not quite immortal," she began slowly, eyes searching Natasha's expression, "perhaps the lengthy span of time had caused me to forget such niceties. But now you have a choice where before there could not be one."

"I don't know if I want to be a mother. Ever."

"And that would be _your_ choice this time. Not mine, not someone else's."

"And you get nothing out of it if I don't bear children."

"Someday, I will keep your soul," Hel replied dismissively, shrugging and dropping her hand. "It's of no consequence."

"Your seers tell you a lot," Natasha said, seeing Hel's gaze sharpen slightly. "They told you what I would choose. That's why you did this."

"They see possibilities. Potential in the _spá._ It's not certainty, not until you make your decision," Hel told her with a wave of her hand. The flowers around them wafted as if on a breeze, then started to wilt and droop. "Should you abort children, yes, one of them I might claim someday." She turned toward Natasha, expression frighteningly stern. "And yes, I mean in the sense of taking on a mother's responsibility myself. I find the concept of creating and bearing my own children rather distasteful."

"So you would have me do it."

"If you choose to try motherhood, and you bear a child, it will live to term. This I promise you. I have removed any impediment to birth. But if you choose to terminate it, that potential is mine to do with as I see fit."

"And if I choose not to..."

"Neither of us becomes a mother. But this is hardly my only avenue of approach, and I am not yet ready to take leave of my realm."

"So you can take the long view."

"Precisely."

"I could spite you, never have children. Or never abort one."

"That's hardly a productive way to use your ability to choose."

Natasha grit her teeth. "I don't know what I want. I never had to think about this before. I never had to really want this before. And I don't want _your_ wishes hanging over me."

"So they don't. I offer no pressures whatsoever. If you help me, you help me. If you don't, you don't." She smiled and plucked a wilted bloom from the flowering bush beside them. It crumbled to ashes in her fingers, and Hel's smile became full of sharp teeth. "I'm not the villain in your story, my dear, however much you'd like to paint me one. I am Lady Death, the end of all things, the stop at the close of the universe. I am everywhere and nowhere at once. You fill my coffers well, you amuse me, and you belong to me. No more, no less."

She curled her hands into fists at her sides. "It still feels like you're trying to make me choose one way or another. Like I don't really have any choice in the matter. You know how it ends for me, you know what decision I make. All of this is a trick, just smoke and mirrors to make me think I have a choice when there never was one."

Hel's eyes flashed with anger. "I am not and never have been like those beings that created you."

Not backing down, Natasha pressed her lips together. "You are a Queen, and you're used to being obeyed implicitly. Am I to believe that I'm exempt from that?"

"I can make you do what I wish," Hel replied tightly, her voice like the chilling sound of surface ice cracking on a deep pond. "I can order you, twist you, reshape you. Yet I did not. I gave you such a little thing, such an insignificant thing."

"It's not!" Natasha snapped. "It's a loaded weapon!"

"And there we have it, don't we?" Hel asked, handing her a pile of ashes. As soon as they touched Natasha's skin, it formed back into a wilted flower that slowly firmed and bloomed, as if Hel had never touched it at all.

"I don't know what I want," Natasha repeated, the rose shaking in her hand.

"Motherhood is a trap, a weapon to wield against you. It would make you useless to the cause your creators crafted you to believe in. It would make you soft, give you ties to another and not to them. It would make you human. Mortal instead of monstrous. As much as you would like not to believe it, their ideals still live on in you. Their hooks had sunk deep, and you are still very much their creature." Her smile was slow and sinister. "That's why you're mine, Natasha. That's why you can never truly belong to another. Your heart is full of barbs and snares and death. Your truth lies in shadows, your soul is buried in layers, and your intentions are a tangled web that weaves others in manipulative ways."

Hel lifted a hand and tilted up Natasha's chin. The redhead had gone unnaturally still, stunned by the truth in Hel's words. "So how could you nurture? How could you comfort and heal? How could you bring life when you have lived so long in death? There is no way to transmute what you are into what you could have been without the influence death has held over you. There is the indelible stain of it all over you, even if you've been wiped clean and can start anew. Your training won't let you. Your nature won't let you."

Leaning in, Hel kissed Natasha's forehead. "It is your choice if you want to bait that trap or not, Natasha." Her smile was chilling, and Natasha could barely keep herself from shivering. "I know how this story ends, Natasha. But there is no point in spoiling it, is there? The journey there is going to be the most interesting part."

The world began to spin around Natasha, and the rose in her hand seemed to wither and die again, ashes in her palm.

And then she was sprawled across the floor of Loki's suite, a ring of ashes around her and the faint scent of burned herbs in the air. Loki broke the circle, terror in his eyes, looking fragile again. He gathered her up in his arms and kissed her, desperation in his touch, as if he was afraid that she would disappear even as he held her. Natasha held onto him, feeling weak and helpless, trying to figure out what had just happened with Hel.

She was no closer to deciding what she wanted to do with herself, and she _hated_ the unsettled feeling along her spine.

***

Tony and Pepper had flown to his Malibu home in their suits of armor; Pepper had taken to flight frighteningly easily, and enjoyed the agility and power in the suit that Tony had crafted for her. She scheduled time to go out in it, and Tony was fully aware that she expected him to come with her and be sober for it. Most days it was easy enough for him to do that, but sometimes the nightmares got to him and he longed to drink heavily. He sat in his workshop, staring at designs and plans, and tried to stay busy. He avoided sleep; he kept seeing faces disintegrate into ash, kept hearing screams ringing in his ears. The worst of it was when he saw the beams of energy that Selene shot hit Pepper or Rhodey or Carol. In his dreams, he pleaded with a God that he was sure didn't exist that he would trade anyone else in the world if only he could have them back. Even seeing how horrible it had been with Natasha dead, he would happily trade her death for any one of theirs.

Each time, he would wake in a guilty sweat, ashamed and choking on it.

Steve and James sometimes wandered into his workshop in the Tower. James liked the new arm, and wasn't terribly interested in more upgrades. Tony got the feeling that he was almost ashamed of having it, that it was a continual reminder of the horrors he had gone through, much as his own arc reactor was a reminder of Afghanistan. Every once in a while he would look in the mirror and wonder if he was honoring his promise to Yinsen well enough, or if he was still falling woefully short of the mark. He knew he could never measure up, not really, but he was _trying,_ and that had to count for something.

"You're still in here?"

Whirling around, Tony saw Pepper in the doorway. "Didn't want to wake you."

"Did you even come to bed?" she asked. It was cute how she was dressed in just one of his concert T shirts as her night shirt.

She approached and clasped his hand with hers when he held his out. "I was there. Maybe for an hour, though. Couldn't sleep."

"Do you need to see the therapist yourself?" she asked gently.

"I think I'm beyond therapy, Pep," Tony sighed. "Look. I don't sleep. I can't. I keep seeing—"

Pepper pressed her lips against his tenderly. "I do, too."

He looked at her in horror, not realizing that she would be just as haunted. Maybe it was worse for her; she hadn't ever been through things like this before she met him. "Oh, God, Pepper..."

"I'm a big girl, Tony. I know what it means to get involved in something like this."

"Did you really?" he asked anxiously, looking at her carefully.

"How long have I known you, Tony?" she asked pointedly.

"I don't know. Feels like forever."

"Yeah. And I've watched you go through this from the beginning. I see what being an Avenger is like for the others. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it was going to be more than just fun and games if I put the suit on like you and Rhodey." She gave him a sad smile and cupped his face in her hands. "But Natasha died, strangers all over the world were dying, and some psycho was going to destroy the world. A few nightmares are a fair exchange for everyone still being alive and able to complain about it."

Tony laughed hollowly. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"Who says you actually do?" she replied tartly.

Now his laughter had more of a ring to it, and Tony pulled her close. He kissed her thoroughly and then buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I can't lose you, Pepper. I can't. I don't think I could make it if I lost you or Rhodey. You two are my entire world."

She ran her fingers through his hair and held onto him tightly. "I won't be doing this often, so you won't. This is what it's like for me, you know. You flying off into the sunset, doing God knows what to take down horrible people... I worry, Tony. I know how much this means to you, that you need it. I understand, and I won't ask you to stop. But I worry."

"Does this mean I _should_ stop?" Tony asked, pulling back from her. He looked at her anxiously again, wondering what she was leading up to.

"Do what you need to do, Tony. But I won't always be there with you in the sky. Flying from here to New York, flying around the skyline... That's fun. That's not serious. I'll be there with you for that. I don't think I can play the hero."

"You don't," Tony said, holding onto her desperately. "Play, I mean. You don't. You _are_ one, Pepper. Did you ever know that you're my hero?" he sang out, making her roll her eyes, snort and pull away. Tony grinned and pulled her in close. "No, but really. You deal with me, the company, the others in the Tower, everything that I've ever thrown at you, all the shit I've put you through... You do it all. I only hope to be worthy of you, of the promise I made to Yinsen in Afghanistan, of the trust those people have in me..." His expression sobered. "What if I'm not good enough? What if I'm not enough and someone gets hurt? If someone dies? If I have to make an impossible choice—"

She covered his lips with her fingers. "Stop. Tony, just stop. You're not alone, and this is not a decision you will _ever_ have to make."

"But what if—"

Pepper kissed him, her tongue sliding into his open mouth and her hands dropping to lift the bottom of his T shirt. She ran her hands along his back, nails running lightly over his skin. He shivered in her arms, holding onto her desperately. "No what if," she said against his mouth. "No more of that. Now take me to bed."

They stumbled into the bedroom; Tony kept kissing her along the way and pulling up her shirt so he could feel her skin. He needed to know she was real and he didn't just dream this all up. She laughed when they bumped into the bed and she fell backwards; that certainly sounded like Pepper and was real enough to convince him it wasn't a dream. Dreams generally flowed better, and he came across a lot more suave.

Tossing aside the T shirt, Tony kissed her neck and moved his way down to suckle a breast. He held onto her, maybe lacking some of the finesse he professed to have, but Pepper didn't seem to notice that. She had her hands in his hair and held him in place, a leg thrown around his waist to lock him in place. "I've got you," she gasped when he started to pull back. Looking at him, mouth parted in a gasp, hair a messy halo around her head, it couldn't be anything but real. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You're psychic," Tony declared before kissing her again.

"I've known you a long time," Pepper said, grabbing him by his hair to keep him from simply kissing her again to avoid talking. "I know some of the things you worry about. I'm not one of them. We've got each other, Tony. I'm not going anywhere."

He wanted to say that she couldn't _know_ that with any certainty. Anything could happen, even with the Rescue armor. But she was right, she was capable, and she knew exactly what she was getting into after seeing him through all of his shit.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I know," Pepper replied gently, letting go of his hair.

He kissed his way down her stomach and then came to the carefully waxed and trimmed hair between her legs. Ignoring her giggle when his facial hair tickled her, Tony started to nuzzle and lick into her. Going slower than usual, he took time to savor the taste of her and the sound of her gasps. Instead of this being the way to get her hot and bothered so he could slide into her, Tony focused on the feel of this, trying to memorize all the details for later. 

God only knew why she was still with him, why she cared as much as he did. But he wasn't so selfless that he would drive her away. He would be a wreck if he did that, and he knew he wouldn't survive the loss.

Instead, Tony was as considerate as he could be, bringing her to orgasm twice before getting a condom on and sliding into her. Pepper rolled him over onto his back, and rode him hard and fast, her fingers linked through his, staring at him through everything even though she usually closed her eyes and bit her lip to muffle her moans. This time, their eyes were locked together and she didn't stifle herself. It was hot, it was real, and Tony nearly sobbed when he came. "I love you, Pepper."

She smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips. "I know, Tony. I love you, too."

Once she cleaned them up, Tony was finally able to sleep through the night.

***

Natasha found Clint in his suite reading, which was a bit of a change from his usual video game playing. But then she noticed it was the guide for one of his games, and she had to stifle a laugh. He was really predictable in some ways. "Hey," she called out, pitched loud enough to carry in case he wasn't wearing his hearing aid.

He was, because she saw it when he turned his head and leaned an arm over the back of the couch he was sitting on. "Oh. Hey. Enjoying your downtime?"

"Sort of. I've been thinking."

"Uh oh," Clint teased, grinning at her. He put aside the guide and patted the couch beside him. "Sounds like you need an ear. Mine aren't at 100%, but I can fake it real well," he joked, tapping on the hearing aid gently. "Getting used to them."

"Hearing things around you probably helps," she teased back, sitting down beside him.

He shrugged, not concerned. "Well, yeah. There's the comms, too. So what's on your mind?"

"The whole being a potential parent thing," Natasha admitted.

"Wait, isn't this something to need to talk to your therapist about?" Clint asked, surprised.

"I have been," Natasha murmured. "But Shiva can't give me advice. She lets me talk it out and make my own decision."

"I can't tell you what to do!"

"I'm not asking for that, really," Natasha said quietly. "A sounding board, maybe. For once, actually saying in words what's going on, not just relying on codes." She let out a long breath. "I'm tired of the shadow of who I used to be, but she's all I know. I don’t' know how to be anyone else, and I'm not sure I want to."

"But you _aren't_ who you used to be," Clint pointed out. "They trained you not to have any relationships. To distrust them, to be on your own. And you aren't. You have friends, you have lovers, you have all of us as family. It doesn't make you weak. It doesn't make you any less capable of a fighter in the field."

"I have so much more to lose," she replied.

"If anything, that only makes you fight harder. Even if the odds are against you, you have to make sure those slim odds are the ones that count. If you didn't, if you were alone and didn't have any ties, you'd let it go. You'd back off, regroup, take a different tactic, let us die because it would be the expedient thing, the efficient thing."

Her eyes were haunted as she nodded. "And I can't."

"So you're _not_ who you used to be. You're nothing like your programming, if that's what you're afraid of. You're not a fighting machine. You're a living, breathing, loving woman. You're capable of such warmth if you let yourself," Clint said, grasping her hand in his. "And you really have. You've come a long way since I first brought you in."

"But I don't know if I could be more. If I could be a mother."

"Because you never really had a mother figure," Clint guessed.

"Unless you count Madame B," Natasha agreed, "and we really can't. Someone preying on your fears and encouraging you to kill the weaker girls is _not_ a mother."

"Definitely not a sitcom mom."

"And that's all I know. Not to mention the thought of carrying a baby is terrifying and awful. Tendons loosening, joints shifting, center of gravity moving, organ displacement, less ability to breathe, decreased flexibility and range of motion... And that's just if it's normal."

"Which it would be. Hel wouldn't give you this and ensure you miscarry or have a SIDS baby. I get the feeling she's cold, but she's not needlessly cruel."

"I can't lose my place on the team. _That's_ my identity. Regardless of the past, _that_ is my future. I can't lose that," she told him earnestly.

"Well, there's your street level side project," Clint said with a shrug. "But yeah, that would be too dangerous if there was a kid cooking."

Natasha shook her head and pulled her hands away. "Not dangerous, not for me. But it would be _irresponsible._ if I get injured in the line of duty, how could I care for a child? Selene _killed me._ I'd've left a kid an orphan." She leaned forward as she sighed again, elbows on her knees. "I can't go soft, and I wouldn't feel right with a _baby._ Me, with a baby? A helpless, defenseless, drooling thing?" Shaking her head, she looked at Clint with a worried expression. "It sounds awful, but I can't. The thought of changing diapers or wiping up vomit sickens me. I can't even fathom how housewives do it."

Clint frowned at her. "Sounds to me like you know what you want. Why are you even looking for advice?"

"Because how do I tell James or Loki? Family is so important to them, and they suffered so much when I died—"

"Children are _not_ obligations," he told her fiercely. "As a kid conceived as an obligation, _don't do it._ You'll hate them, hate yourself, hate the kid. Don't."

"There are other versions of me that have kids."

"Yeah, but you're not them." Clint shook his head at her stoic expression. "You're allowed to want, Tash, and what you want can't be subordinate to what they want. You are your own person. It doesn't matter what another you does if _this_ you isn't into it."

"But—"

"You don't owe them," Clint repeated. "Kids are not bought and paid for by services rendered. If you're not 100% on board with the sacrifices involved, for God's sake, _don't have them."_

Natasha bit her lip and looked at him. "But what if they want one?"

"Why knock off adoption? Or fostering? You would be a kickass mentor, Tash. You've been to Hell and back – literally, even – and have still come out kind."

"I'd hardly say a seasoned killer is kind," Natasha returned dryly.

"Yes, you can be. You're patient with everyone but yourself. You absolve the rest of us from our guilt and won't let us do it for you. You look out for us, help us, save us. Sometimes it's obvious, sometimes not." He grasped her hands in his. "If you want to turn that into motherhood, you could. But if you don't, you don't. There are other ways to be a parent than to push one out of your body. Your decision. I won't tell you what to do, either. Your choice."

With a sigh, Natasha leaned backward. "It feels like I'm being pushed to do this. That I have to be a mother. That I should want it."

"Honestly? I'm not hearing that you do."

"I like what I have," she murmured.

"Well, yeah, I'm kinda awesome," Clint snarked. He cried out when she hit his arm, but they were both grinning. "Honestly? As far as baby daddies go? Loki is a _terrible_ choice. I can't see him getting up at two am, bottle feeding a baby, changing diapers, getting vomit all over him... James, maybe. But he kinda creeps me out a bit, to be honest. Less now than before, but the dead eyed look he can get? He's not in a healthy place, either. I don't see it working out right now."

"And that's the kind of thing that Shiva won't tell me," Natasha murmured. Clint pulled her into a hug, and then afterward she curled up on her side, her head resting on his lap. Clint played with her hair a bit, a soothing gesture. "I suppose I know what I want, then."

"I think you always did," Clint remarked, "but you think too much of disappointing others than yourself. I'm sure the other Loki wasn't a psychotic mess with disappointment."

"We were actually _married."_

"Shit, really? I can see you committing. But Loki? Really? He's still a roiling ball of crazy sometimes. So not healthy."

"Are any of us?"

"I am, thank you very much. I'm in a very stable and committed relationship."

"Good. I like Darcy much better than your exes."

"They felt threatened by you."

"Proof they weren't right for you."

Clint chuckled. "Maybe. And James and Loki aren't threatened by me. So I guess they have _something_ in their favor."

"There has to be _something_ that keeps me there other than obligation," she replied.

"Yeah. Love is stupid and makes us do stupid things."

"But we can't live without it," Natasha murmured.

"Nope," Clint agreed softly. "Lord knows we tried."

"I know I don't want to be alone anymore. On my own, not relying on anyone else... It's dangerous, and will likely get us killed. I can't work like that anymore."

"Good thing you don't have to."

"Yeah," she murmured. "Good thing."

"There's a lot of us now. Do you know, Sam, Steve, Carol, Wanda and Pietro went out on patrol without the rest of us?" he asked, sounding irritated.

"How rude," Natasha laughed.

"Well, yeah. Not that the Wrecking Crew is a big deal. You saw it in the news, right? Bunch of guys taking their code names after a bunch of tools."

"Someone decided to be literal."

"Exactly. They did a good job, actually. Collared them all, no one got hurt. But you don't have to go out all the time is what I'm saying. You can take care of yourself, too. There's no ledger to balance. You can just be. Figure out who else you are besides an Avenger."

"Most of my other interests before were functional."

"But if you enjoyed it, it still counts," Clint reasoned.

Her reply was interrupted by Darcy's entry into his suite. "Oh! Good, you're here. My day was _awful—"_ She stopped short when she saw Natasha curled up on his lap. "Oh. I guess my day wasn't the only one."

"We've got my stuff settled, if you want me to leave," Natasha told her.

"Nah," Darcy sighed, plopping down beside Clint and leaning into him. "That utter prick in Accounts Receiving was at it again, which wouldn't be so bad if Carlotta or Vanessa was there to run interference. But no, Carlotta's out on bed rest and Vanessa was at a pre-op doctor's appointment, so I had to handle him by myself and I _almost_ got out the tazer I'm not supposed to have in the office."

Natasha laughed in all the right places and offered her support. Darcy just needed to vent, and appreciated the thoughtful noises they made. It was comfortable, and cemented Natasha's feelings on the matter. _This_ was her family, and this was just how she liked it. The surprise fertility didn't have to mean anything, didn't have to be a burden. She could always book an appointment with the team's surgeon to eliminate her uterus, and then she could have her equilibrium back.

Hel's gift wasn't the end of the world, and she didn't have to treat it that way.

***  
***


	3. In Which Decisions Are Made

As it turned out, Natasha never had to discuss anything with the team surgeon. Hel was in her suite, standing at the window and looking down over Manhattan. She wore long black robes shot with silver and red, the colors shifting even though she stood still. Hel's dark hair was done in elaborate braids and ringlets, so glossy that the black almost shone blue. Her skin was nearly translucent in its paleness, making her look like an animated skeleton. She didn't bother to turn around when Natasha entered the suite, which she wasn't sure should be an insult or not.

"Do you enjoy seeing these other people look so small?" Hel asked, still looking out of the window. When Natasha remained silent, she turned and fixed her haunting, empty eyes on her. "No. I don't think you do. I don't think that's how you see this view."

"How do you think I see it?"

"They're small. Helpless. They need your protection. So you do that. You do what you need to do in order to be the savior you don't believe you can be."

Hel glided forward smoothly as Natasha blinked in surprise. "I told you," she murmured, lips quirking in the corners. "You're mine. I know what makes up the heart of you."

"And you have seers."

"They have possibilities. Chances within the _spá,_ should it all fall in the manner that they had seen it. So rarely are they all in concert."

"And the other versions of me?"

"What of them?" Hel asked, not even tilting her head to the side.

"Do they belong to you, too?"

"No, not all of them. Some belong to only themselves."

"How did I get to belong to you, then?"

Natasha managed not to react when Hel smiled at her. It was a predatory look, her teeth almost looking like razor sharp needles in her mouth, her lips a dark slash of bloody flesh.

"When you could look at me thus and not react with fear."

"I'm always afraid."

"But not of me, dear one. Not of what I can do. You accept I am a force of nature, that I have a will and am made manifest. You hold no fear of death."

"The other versions of me probably don't, either."

"But they do," Hel corrected, smile gentler and almost fond. "They fear me. They fear my power, what my plans might be."

"Why are you here, Hel?"

"You see? You address me as an equal, not as a supplicant should greet its master." Hel laughed, a harsh and grating sound. Was this how she truly appeared, or did she simply change to meet the situation? Or maybe she didn't change at all, and she just played with Natasha's mind the entire time. Maybe she was dreaming or already half dead; the pull of magic would force her to react, no matter what her intentions were.

"You seem to like that," Natasha remarked cautiously.

"Death is a kindness to you," Hel remarked.

Natasha frowned at her. "Can't you tell me anything plainly?"

"There are things my seers have seen. Some have to do with you. Some outcomes you affect and change. The others, you don't. I don't wish to force the hand of fate in this instance. I'm willing to wait and see what your timeline brings me."

"Something is coming then?"

"Something always comes," Hel said in amusement.

Before Natasha could ask her to be less cryptic, Hel swept her up in her arms. She kissed Natasha full on the mouth, tongue touching hers when she gasped in surprise. Hel placed a hand low on Natasha's belly, and there was an intense flash of fiery pain that stopped in an instant but left her feeling weak and boneless.

In an eye blink, Natasha was lying on her bed in a nightgown she didn't remember buying, staring at the ceiling. Hel was sitting at her bedside, face impassive and looking at her. "You've made your choice, so I have taken back the gift I had given. I didn't think it would be so poorly received. But perhaps what makes you mine also means that it is incompatible with giving life. It is of no matter. I have others in play. Sooner or later, I will obtain what I wish."

Natasha struggled to sit up, but felt an impossible weight on her chest. "What—?" she gasped, unable to draw in breath.

Hel's smile was cold, almost cruel. "You are not the only one that came back to life, my dear. I have others in play. Some of them you even know. I give you choices as I can, as always, but _my_ interests must be served. Not even for you would I refrain from that."

"I don't understand," Natasha whispered.

"I play at godhood and the life and death of realms, Natasha. I would not expect you to." Hel stood and her smile softened. "You have the life you wish. I ensured that it will remain so. My other players might not be so hesitant to use my gift."

She tried to reach out and grasp Hel's hand, but only succeeded in grasping at her dress. Power shot up her arm like an electric shock, drowning out the _No, don't force them_ that she wanted to say. Was that her heart stopping? Was that her mind short circuiting?

It had to be. She felt flayed wide open, all the fractured and half remembered bits of memory suddenly jangling in her mind and crying out for full attention. She was screaming, out loud or in her mind, she couldn't tell. All the selves she tried to suppress, all the things she had been and never wanted to be, all the things she had to do and wished she could forget.

And then just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Her nerves still jangled, memories still slid around in her mind like bits of jagged glass. Natasha could barely breathe, barely even recognize Hel standing above her, looking down in disappointment the way Madame B used to when she was a young child about to be punished.

"You are mortal and full of fear for things that don't matter. I did not force your hand in this, I would not force another. You shouldn't have questioned me."

Hel disappeared, as if fading from existence, but the lethargy and pain in her body didn't subside along with her. If anything, Natasha felt more acutely aware of it now. Had she made a mistake somehow? Had she angered Hel and caused her own destruction?

When she opened her eyes next, Loki and James were in the room with her, speaking in low enough tones that she couldn't understand them. They were worried, she could tell that much from the cadence of their speech and the expressions on their faces. But she couldn't make out individual words, and it was frustrating. She must have made a noise of some kind, because they both broke off and came to her side immediately.

"We got a report from Jarvis," James told her, stroking her face gently. "Hel was here. Energy shorted out his sensors about an hour or so ago."

"Seventy-one minutes precisely," Loki said with clipped tones. "And that was the exact amount of time we were barred from your side. The entire suite had shifted slightly, as if it didn't exist, and then suddenly it did."

"Sounds bad," Natasha croaked.

"I want a scan," James said firmly. "Dr. Calderon is on standby."

"Hel took her gift back."

Both men fell still, and Natasha thought that their expressions were a mixture of fear, relief and disappointment. But then, none of them were really stable enough for children right now, were they? And Clint was right, this didn't mean that they couldn't be parents if they didn't want to be. There was surrogacy, adoption, fostering... No, Hel's stock on biological children was more for her own benefit than Natasha's. And with Natasha not falling into her plans, she had to go to the backup plan.

But who was it?

"Stop," Loki said, voice firm. "Whatever you're thinking, whatever you might be planning, please, just stop."

"I didn't—"

"Your eyes, Natasha," Loki replied. When she looked over to James, he nodded and gave her a shrug. "You were most serious."

"Are you seriously going to take on the Queen of Death?" James asked quietly.

"She's planning something. Someone else... I'm not the only one she brought back."

James nodded slowly. "I get it. But are they your responsibility?"

"Look. I won't give her what she wants. I can't give you what you want—"

"I just want you," James said. "Not anything else, no matter what she might've said."

Natasha frowned and struggled to sit up, leaning more on Loki for assistance than she really wanted to. She was still far too weak for her liking. Would she ever get her strength back enough to fight with the Avengers again?

"If it's because of what I had seen, because of what you had me tell you," Loki began slowly, sounding almost guilty. "It was another world. Another me, another you. We were not the same, and I would not expect such a thing in this lifetime."

"Are you just saying that?" she croaked.

"I would not lose you and risk all we've gained," Loki told her flatly. "Nothing is worth that."

"Loki..."

"No, Natasha," he insisted, eyes fever bright as he stared at her. "It's difficult enough to know that I only have a mortal lifetime with you. I will not have an Asgardian's or Jotnar's lifetime the way I would wish. I will watch you grow old and die, then I will be trapped on this realm without you. Please," he said, voice breaking. "I cannot lose you again before your time. I am broken without you."

Leaning her forehead against his, Natasha let out a slow breath. She had one hand on his shoulder for balance, and reached beside her with her other hand for James. He caught her hand in his flesh and blood one, and she squeezed them both tightly. "Okay."

"But maybe if we look..." James began uncertainly. "So we're prepared. Not so that you stop her, but so that if Hel comes after us for some reason, we're prepared. Because you're too important, Natalia. I know you don't always believe it, but you are."

She squeezed them again and nodded, feeling a little stronger already. Maybe it was just the aftershocks of Hel's magic running through her beginning to wear off.

"We can probably ask Jarvis to run the same kind of algorhythm he used to track the magic users Selene was killing off," Natasha said. She looked at them both, a fierce expression on her face. "I have enough to do here, with keeping you both in hand and making sure the assholes in the city don't go overboard. There are powered people that got loose when magic started failing. Selene's gone, but the damage still needs to be fixed. There's only so much that we should leave Wanda to do with the others. They didn't understand what we're dealing with, and she's still in training."

Loki smiled at her gratefully, some of the tension easing out of him. James leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

There were things to do, Natasha knew. Those rings of power had to be hidden or destroyed somehow, and maybe Wanda or Carol could help her do it. Loki was too fragile to do it. James could hold them without getting warped, and she was sure any others would be willing to help her figure out how best to do it. But for the moment, she didn't have to worry about it.

She turned her head and kissed James on the mouth, hot and open, her hand moving from his to touch his chest. Her other hand at Loki's shoulder slid down his back in a gentle caress. It didn't have to turn into anything more, but could. "I'm not going anywhere," she promised them softly. "I'm right here, and I'm staying here. This is where I belong."

"Yes, it is," Loki murmured before moving to nuzzle her neck and caress her thigh. "And where you are, there I shall be."

James kissed her deeply, then nipped her nose. "Like you even have to wonder about me."

Natasha laughed. "No, I really don't. I know I have you both. I know I have the others. I think by now, I really know it. Deep down, I know I'm not alone, and I don't want to be."

Sliding an arm around her waist, James chuckled. "Well, good, 'cause I don't think you're gonna be alone any time soon."

Tipping her head back, Natasha actually giggled as both Loki and James kissed opposing sides of her neck. This was her present and future. This was her life now, and it was exactly what she wanted it to be.

Hel's plans could wait. As long as she was safe and the ones she cared about were safe, Natasha refused to worry about it. If the time ever came, she would deal with it then.

***

Steve couldn't help but grin as he sketched Sif, Jane and Thor sitting at the kitchen table and going through Asgardian magic items for her sensor. It was a pretty sedate Saturday afternoon, and for once there was no calamity to deal with. Oh, there were Hydra cells to help SHIELD find, traffickers, powered criminals, and the odd wannabe dictator from pockets of Europe threatening to take over other countries. Steve was sure that he and the others would be able to deal with those problems as they came. Rhodey was back with the Air Force and Carol was seriously considering quitting. She had made quite a friend with Wanda, and the two were discussing how best to use her cosmic power. That power had nearly fried Jane's sensor, so it wouldn't be good for looking for other Kree, if they were interested in such things. Sif and Thor had suggested they leave that alone, as they weren't well known for kindness in the galaxy. Their views on blood purity and genetics sounded awfully familiar to Steve, and he agreed with their assessment. They had enough to do on Earth than to borrow trouble across the galaxy.

Sam plopped down into a chair beside Steve, coffee in hand. "That's really good," he commented as he looked over the sketch. "And I know it's one of your quick courtroom style jobs."

"I thought you were supposed to be at the VA," Steve said, frowning a little as he took in Sam's casual dress and relaxed posture.

"I cut back my hours. I'm still doing the groups and some of my one to one patients, but I don't feel like I can do that and still help around here."

"You live here now, so it's easier to suit up."

"I'm also not a superpowered hero," Sam pointed out. "I'm a guy in a flight suit. I'm pretty damn awesome, but even I need sleep and rest. So I'm half time at the VA, half time here. I think we should come up with some kind of call schedule like the docs do it over at the hospitals."

"We have enough people here to do it," Steve replied thoughtfully. "It could work."

"Some of you are full timers, some like me would be part time. And people like Rhodey might be the guest consultants filling in a time or two." Sam took a sip of his coffee and then nodded as Steve contemplated it. "Sounds like a plan, doesn't it?"

"It does," Steve agreed.

"You sound... I dunno. Not exactly thrilled," Sam commented.

"Sif's going back to Asgard. See her brother, report to the Queen, work with the Einherjar."

Sam looked at him carefully. "You want to go with her, don't you?"

"It would be part time," he began, working on his sketching and not looking at Sam. "And we'd be back and forth. Heimdall was pretty sure he could get it so that our timelines aren't so far off kilter from each other. Jane and Bruce think they have the math down."

"Dude! Don't tell me you're staying here because of me and Bucky. Because you know we'd kick your ass _so hard_ if you did."

Steve looked up from his drawing, an anxious look in his eyes. "I can't abandon people, you know. It's not right."

"Captain America is going to be an Ambassador. That's not abandoning us. That's representing us on another planet. That is friggin' awesome, and you are _not_ going to throw away that opportunity. Not to mention getting together with that fine Lady Sif."

His smile was gentle and a little shy. "I might have to make some kind of formal offer, talk it over with her brother and see if he says okay."

"You're a hero. If Heimdall doesn't think so, he's blind."

"I'm pretty sure he sees everything in the galaxy."

Sam waved a hand dismissively. "You know what I mean. Of course he'll appreciate you and want you for a brother. Who wouldn't?"

"There's all the politics involved," Steve sighed, lips pressed together unhappily.

"Which you could get out of if you really wanted to. Apparently being an Ambassador there is like being honorary royalty. They get away with all kinds of shit."

"Doesn't mean I should."

"Steve. Seriously. You are the best possible man that they can pick to be Ambassador. You are honest to a fault, your principles are as rock hard as your abs, and you rock Sif's world. Go for it. You deserve to be happy, and she makes you happy."

He smiled a little. "Bucky said something like that, too."

"And you're still taking superhero call when you get back."

"Or... I was thinking maybe splitting the time with the shield." At Sam's startle of surprise, Steve smiled self deprecatingly. "They don't see me unless I'm wearing the suit. The public, I mean. They don't see Steve Rogers, they see Captain America. It's just a suit and a title. I told Bucky he could take it while I'm in Asgard. But you could, too."

"Bucky Cap and Falcon Cap," Sam mused, leaning back in his chair.

"He was nervous about it."

"I'll bring him around," Sam said confidently. "If he knows I'll fill in, and we've all got his back, I think he'll do it. If we need someone shiny and respectable, he can go all Captain America. If it needs to be a little darker and underhanded, he can go Winter Soldier. Depending on the mission at hand, of course. These things happen."

Steve looked at Sam in surprise. "You're very accepting of this."

"Still wrapping my brain around it," Sam disagreed, shaking his head. "But Captain America needs my help." He grinned at Steve. "No better reason to be going in and doing this. So what's holding you back?"

"I guess... I'll miss all you guys."

"You're still coming back to take superhero call, Steve. You're not going anywhere for long." He looked over at the others when Jane cheered and raised her hands in the air triumphantly. Thor laughed and kissed her, making Sif make eye contact with Steve. "Go with the girl, Steve. Trust me, it's okay. They're getting interdimensional travel to work much easier. You'll be zipping back and forth like it's just a plane ride."

"I _am_ thinking of making an official offer."

Sam gawked at Steve. "Proposing, you mean?"

"Yeah. Might've designed a ring and everything."

Throwing an arm around Steve's shoulders and jostling his pencils, Sam laughed. "You go, Steve. Right now, you do it. Don't even waste time."

"You think?"

"I _know,_ man. Some things you don't have to wait for. She's one of 'em."

"That she is," Steve replied, a goofy grin on his face. Sam chuckled and nudged his arm playfully, making Steve laugh a little. "You and Bucky will be my best men, of course."

"Of course I will! Don't you think you should ask her first, though?"

Steve thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "As soon as we're alone."

"Hey!"

"What I got in mind after doesn't need an audience."

Sam laughed uproariously and nodded. "All right, then. That's how it is. You got this, man. You are going to be fine. Just call on us if it isn't, we'll come right up."

Grinning at him, Steve nodded back and stood. "I'll do that."

***

Though Steve didn't follow the Asgardian tradition of asking Sif's family for her hand in marriage or offering some kind of bride price, Heimdall was more than happy to welcome him to Asgard and offer suggestions for an Asgardian wedding. "There will be elements in common with your own traditions on Midgard," he had said with a smile, clasping Steve's hand. "We will simply say that any deviations from our traditions are in honor to yours, not because I simply do not care for them."

"I knew I liked you," Steve joked, grinning at him. "She's wonderful," he said in a low tone, "and I will do whatever it takes to make this work so we're both happy and able to serve our realms. I know it's going to be a political thing, but that's not why I proposed."

Heimdall nodded. "And I'm sure that's not why she accepted, either." He let go of Steve's hand and gestured for the walkway to the gates of Asgard. "You are welcome, Steven Grant Rogers, as are your comrades. There will be plenty of assistance for planning the event, and I will join you all when possible."

He hadn't been kidding about the words _the event._ There were elaborate rituals and traditions to follow on Asgard. Given how long lived they were, every major life transition was celebrated with much pomp and circumstance, layers of meaning to give it even more weight and importance. While Sif might have never taken advantage of her status, her rank as a high jarl meant the wedding would be far more elaborate to plan and execute.

Sif was sequestered with distant female relatives and appropriate jarls that Heimdall had suggested would be helpful. She also requested Natasha, Jane, Darcy, Wanda, Carol and Pepper accompany her. In the bath house, all of the women assembled around Sif to confer advice. The jarls were a little nervous at first, not sure what kind of marriage advice they would give to a warrior bride, especially one marrying an outworlder. Natasha led the charge with practicing communication skills, so that seemed to ease the jarls. They talked about owning an estate, managing servants and karl workers, easing Steve into society functions. From there, Darcy snickering at some awkward phrasing shifted the talk to bedroom antics. Heimdall knew the elite very well, and had chosen ladies of rank that wouldn't think less of Sif just because she didn't conform to the Asgardian ideal of purity and chastity before marriage, or at least faking it by blushing and pretending ignorance of the marriage bed.

Afterward, Sif was rinsed of in ritual fashion, the water scented with fragrant oils and a prayer said over her bent head. Without being asked, Wanda twitched her fingers and wove a blessing into Sif's _spá_ that she had learned from Loki. He had been very gracious about her request to learn a helpful spell like that, and had been bleakly honest with her. "I do wish her well, though she would never believe it," Loki told Wanda. "Our time of rivalry is past now, and Steve deserves happiness in his future. They have both been exceedingly fair with me," he said after a moment, voice low and almost hesitant. "If asked, say you developed this spell on your own, or learned it from volumes in mine or my mother's study. They will not trust it if it came from me, but I truly do not wish any harm upon them." Just to be safe, Wanda had double checked the crafting of the spell, and saw it for it was: a spell designed to attract well wishes and positive energy, speeding up her healing time and health in general. It was a gift that Sif could actually use and would want, one that would benefit her as she defended the Nine Realms.

Sif rose with a smile on her face and clasped each woman tightly. "My thanks for being at my side in this time. You are all precious to me, and I cherish your support." Then they all took deliberate care in dressing her in fine tunics and robes, a special marriage crown placed on her head, her hair left unbound. Her eyes were suspiciously bright as she took in her appearance in the mirror, clasping the medallion hanging around her neck. "My mother, they said, was a very beautiful and kind woman. My father said I would have made her very proud, even if I am not a woman that follows the rules of this Realm. I know they're with me this day, and I think they are pleased with my choice."

"Of course they are," Jane said, giving her a hug. She smoothed the wrinkles in her robes and grinned at Sif's anxiety. "You're a fantastic person, great friend, and will be happy with Steve. I know it. You guys are perfect for each other."

"As are you and Thor," Sif responded, the suspicious shine in her eyes fading.

"Yeah. And as soon as his parents finish whatever they're doing with their legal documents to check that there aren't outstanding betrothals, he can make it all official, too," she said. "With as long lived as you all are, there are _a lot_ of contracts for them to go through. So I'm paying close attention to how this goes."

"I will aid you in your preparations, of course," Sif insisted. "As will the Queen herself."

"Getting sex tips from your mother-in-law?" Darcy sputtered. "Awkward."

That sent all the women into gales of laughter, even the jarls, and they left the bath house to complete Sif's preparations for the wedding.

In the meantime, Steve had the male Avengers, Heimdall, Thor and the Warriors Three for his attendants in the wedding preparations. Having no ancestral sword to obtain for the ceremony, Steve had originally thought he and Sif would forego the exchange of swords. Thor instead had arranged for one of his own swords to be gifted to Steve. "I credit you as shield brother, and give you the first training sword I used as a boy." He grinned at Steve when presenting it with a slight bow. "I would be most honored for you to consider me kin, and accept this sword for the marriage ceremony."

Taking the sword, Steve pulled Thor into a tight embrace. "Of course, Thor," he replied, voice choked with emotion. "Of course you're family."

Normally a special bath house was used for wedding preparations, with the groom's party entering once the bridal party was finished. In this case, since Thor was acting as one of Steve's family sponsors, they were all getting prepared in the palace. He had his ritual bath with scented oils and prayers said over his bent head. James recited a blessing from the Catholic church, making Steve smile in recognition.

Rather than Asgardian garb, Steve was dressed in a formal tuxedo with red accents. Sam and James were in similar suits as his best men, though their accents were teal blue. The others were all in regular suits, though Clint had elected not to wear a tie. Though the ladies were all going to be in formal Asgardian gowns and robes, the men were mostly Midgardian and decided to stick with the formal wear they knew. "It also is a nod to Steve's origin," Fandral commented. "I would be honored to wear similar garb to show my support." Not to be outdone, most of the others elected to do the same. As brother of the bride, Heimdall had to excuse himself to make his own preparations.

Sif walked on Heimdall's arm to the open courtyard in the palace that the wedding was taking place in. It normally would be in the bride's home, but she had long since let her childhood home revert to other relatives. She had lived and trained in the palace for such a long time that it was more her home than the one she had grown up in. As Ambassador to Midgard, she could claim more privilege, as could Steve for being Ambassador to Asgard. Natasha held her father's sword carefully and reverently, Jane held the ring she would place on Steve's hand, and Darcy held a length of wide silk ribbon.

They waited expectantly for Steve and the groom's party. When he entered, leading his men, he walked with a steady gait, eyes on Sif the entire time. He ended at her side, just next to the _horgr,_ an altar made of heaped stones with a wide, shallow bowl of silver on it. Odin and Frigga stood behind the _horgr,_ waiting to begin. They were in their most regal finery to befit the occasion, the jarls of the Asgardian peerage standing around the edges of the courtyard to observe the proceedings. Steve wore the sword he was to present to Sif, and James held the ring he would place on her finger. Sam carried the _hlaut-teinn,_ a bundle of fir branches wrapped in white cord. He advanced to present it to Frigga with a bow, who took it in her right hand with a formal nod. In her left hand was a large silver pitcher, and she poured its contents into the bowl as Sam moved back into line beside James.

The liquid was herbed mead, and Frigga dipped the _hlaut-teinn_ into it. She flicked it over the assembled party, moving it from left to right after a gentle dip. It sent a fine spray of the mead onto all of them, not much more than a fine mist. "We bless the union of these houses, and the honor bestowed upon our realms."

After she stepped back, Odin looked over the assemblage with his single eye. "There are similarities between our realms, just as there are differences. Lady Sif, from a long honored and well loved House. Steven Grant Rogers, stout of heart, strong of will, and favored by the royal House. Though normally a joining ceremony would begin with an exchange of dowry before witnesses and the court, both of you have opted not to include this, out of deference to the way it is done on Midgard." He raised both his hands, palm up, toward the sky. "Your lives were separate before, but now will be joined. One House, one lifeline, one blood."

At Odin's direction, Steve and Sif clasped one pair of hands. Natasha stepped up to hand Sif the sword, which she then handed to Steve. He clasped it, lips curling into a smile as his fingers brushed against hers. "I bind my House to yours, to honor and defend the sanctity of your name and the name of our family."

"I accept your House and bind it to mine," Steve said, taking the sword and then passing it behind him to Sam. He drew the sword Thor gave him from his scabbard, aware that Sif, Frigga and Odin recognized it. Twisting his grip, he presented it to Sif with pride. "Sif, I bind my House to yours, to honor and defend the sanctity of your name and the name of our family."

Her eyes glittered a little as she took the sword and passed it behind her for Natasha to take. "I accept your House and bind it to mine," Sif echoed, her lips curling into a soft smile.

Odin nodded at them both. "The binding of Houses has been witnessed by all present and recognized as lawful and just." Many of the jarls present nodded, some of them looking very pleased for both Sif and Steve.

Jane stepped forward and presented Sif's ring to Steve. It was spelled gold, runes of protection on its underside, a single garnet centered in it like a signet. Sif eagerly took it with her free hand, and then looked at him with an expression of perfect love and trust. "Steve. I gift you with a circle stronger than any forged metal." She started to slide the ring onto the third finger of his left hand in Midgardian style. "I declare myself bonded to you in lawful matrimony, and declare that will do my utmost to fulfill and observe the whole of the compact between us. This is declared in the hearing of witnesses without duplicity or cunning, as a real and authorized compact. My body and soul and ability, yours to command."

James stepped forward with Steve's ring for Sif. It was a simple platinum band studded with small diamonds, intended to make it easy for Sif to still wield a sword in her off hand if she had to. "Sif," Steve murmured, a smile ghosting his lips. There had been preparation with the wording of this ceremony, and the two of them had decided that it would be a blending of their cultures. "With this ring, I thee wed. I promise to love, honor and cherish you, forsaking all others, in sickness and in health, till death do us part." He couldn't help but grin at her, his own eyes suspiciously shiny as well. "I love you, Sif," he added, voice thick with emotion. "Now and forever, no matter what. You've made me a happy man, and I promise I will do my best to make you a happy woman."

Sif laughed; neither had rehearsed that part of his vow, and she was overcome with emotion as he slid on her ring. "Steve," she choked, grinning at him.

Clearing his throat, Odin drew their attention back to him. "The binding of body and soul for Steve and Sif has been witnessed by all present, and is recognized as lawful and just."

That was Darcy's cue to start wrapping the ribbon around their clasped hands and wrists. It was tight, ends overlapping, until she came to the end of its length. She knotted it and fluffed the edges into a makeshift bow, smirking at the both of them. "You guys rock," she declared, her voice carrying across the hushed area. "Congratulations."

Both Steve and Sif chuckled, then looked to Odin. "You are of one body, one heart, one blood, one soul," Odin intoned gravely. "You are wed."

The assembled jarls that bore witness to the ceremony began to clap politely. In deference to Steve's origin, Odin smiled at Steve. "And the groom may now kiss the bride."

"The best part," he joked before grasping Sif with his free arm and pulling her close for a deep kiss. Sam and James started cheering, and the ladies soon joined in as well.

The wedding celebration afterward lasted for a week. It began with the bride and groom drinking the special bridal-ale, a spiced mead similar to that used with the _hlaut-teinn._ Sufficient quantities had been made so that the couple could share it over the next month according to tradition. Steve had laughed at the literal "honeymoon," and planned to take Sif on a trip through various spots on Earth he had always wanted to see. "That's the kind of honeymoon I'm used to," he told Sif after they shared their first goblet of mead, one pair of hands still tied together. "Not that this isn't good. Kinda sweet."

"Meant to bring sweetness, luck and fertility to our union," Sif said, lips curling into a smile.

"Is that what you want?" Steve asked, leaning in for a honeyed kiss.

"I have sweetness and luck aplenty," Sif replied against his mouth. "Should we be blessed with offspring, I would find it joyous indeed."

"And they don't need you back here for a month?" Steve confirmed, smiling and letting his forehead touch hers. She nodded, an answering smile on her face. "Got a lot of time to be practicing for those offspring. Ready for it?"

"I should ask if you're ready for the full strength of my ardor," Sif teased.

"Verily," Steve replied, leaning in to kiss her again. Neither of them could wait.

***

Natasha was startled to see a young woman in her suite staring at the painting on her wall. The woman had long, straight black hair that hung down nearly to her knees. She was wearing a scarlet dress that clung to her frame, sleeves that went to her wrists. On her hands were black gloves with scarlet stitching. She was thin, gaunt, really, and when she turned around, Natasha could see that her eyes were entirely black and her skin was as pale as paper. She looked almost like Selene, but there was some other cast to her features, something that seemed almost familiar, though Natasha had never seen her before. Her stance and demeanor seemed almost like Hel, but not quite, and Natasha squashed down her unease and foreboding.

"Can I help you?" she asked, voice carefully modulated to remain neutral.

The young woman smiled, and that certainly looked like Hel at her most calculating. "I wanted to meet you. You're her favorite, even among all of her other favorites, and I wanted to see why."

Her. As in this young woman was separate from Hel? Natasha didn't even know how to begin to ask what her business was.

"Is there something specific that you're looking for?"

"There are changes that will occur, I'm sure," the woman replied, not answering Natasha's question directly. There was a decided predatory look in the woman's eyes, though Natasha refused to back up or show that she was in any way intimidated.

"What's your name?"

She smiled. "You may call me Helena. _She_ does. But that will change soon enough."

That told Natasha absolutely nothing specific yet, but it was clear Helena was separate from Hel, and was possibly created from the remnants of Selene's heart and soul in Helheim. Hel had wanted a child after all, and _someone_ had provided Hel with the raw materials. She hadn't been interested in forcing the issue on Natasha, not when there was someone else she could have done that with.

Holding out her hand in greeting, Natasha smiled politely. "Pleased to meet you, Helena."

Helena laughed, a light tinkling sound of amusement. "And I you, Natalia Alianovna Romanova, beloved and hated by many," she said, taking Natasha's hand and shaking it. "I am in neither camp at the moment, but there are many whispers in the webs about you."

"The webs?" Natasha asked blankly.

"There are many futures you could take. Many pasts you could have had. As it is, you have been given a clean slate in this realm, a blank future that you can do with what you wish." She smiled at Natasha, possibly meaning to be encouraging, but only making Natasha certain that Helena wasn't particularly fond of her. She didn't seem to actively hate her, but didn't have any stake in Natasha remaining hale and whole.

"What do the seers say about you, then?" Natasha asked, curious.

"They haven't decided yet," Helena replied. "You'll have your hands full," she added before Natasha could think of something else to potentially draw her out and reveal something. "Old enemies under new leadership, battles to wage, personalities to keep in balance." Her smile was amused, and Natasha knew it was at her expense. "You'll send many souls to Helheim, certainly. Some of them may even be useful to us."

"Are there particular ones you're looking for?"

She grinned, truly amused now. "So solicitous. Were you that way with _her?"_

"When I knew what she wanted. Never a good idea to make the Queen of the Dead angry with you," Natasha replied blandly.

"No, it isn't," Helena agreed, smiling still. The air behind her was a swirling mass of smoke, more like Stephen Strange's portals than Loki's or Hel's. She inclined her head regally. "I'll have my hands full as well. But I think perhaps there was a reason why she wanted it to go this way. Not just because I potentially would have to be created, but because she wanted to see the shape of things fall this way. There would have been so much more chaos if it hadn't."

"Will I see you again?"

"Of course," Helena replied, smile still on her face. "But I plan to take a less direct approach than my predecessor. Your fate has been changed enough as it is."

"So what is it that you want?" Natasha asked Helena.

The young woman had an eerie smile, and Natasha couldn't help but be reminded of Selene. "From you? Nothing. Unlike Hel, I have no designs on the living and no need to use you all as pawns." Her expression hardened fractionally. "You are free of my influence, Natalia Alianovna. Your life is your own."

"Thank you," Natasha told her sincerely. "And you can call me Natasha if we do meet again."

Helena smiled, nodding. "I understand." She paused for a moment, then cocked her head to the side. "There are new antagonists for you and your compatriots, Natasha. A former lover Hel had resurrected, though not as part of her plans."

"Yelena."

Nodding, Helena shrugged slightly. "She doesn't look the same, and neither does her current paramour. Death came for them, used them to her own purposes."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Yelena asked Ophelia not to kill you or your compatriots as a favor."

"Meaning?"

"Oh, you can be hurt or maimed, just not killed." Helena smiled. "There is ample opportunity for your work if you wish it. Not for a ledger, not for the repayment of past sins."

"I'm aware of my ledger," Natasha replied. "But it's in balance now. I don't do this because I have to wipe out the red. I want to keep my life in balance. It doesn't work if I'm alone or if I refuse to kill or do bad things. I know that now. Sometimes it's choosing the lesser of the evils to save the most people. I'm okay with that."

Helena smiled. "And that's why I wanted to meet you. I see why she likes you," Helena said. "Strong of will, good of heart, and determined to do the most good. Despite all the pain and trauma of your past, it only tempered you. It made you kind."

"I'm not kind."

"You _are,"_ she disagreed. "Not in a soft way, but in that you help others and you aren't ever deliberately cruel."

"I suppose," Natasha replied in a dubious tone. It only made Helena giggle like a child. "So what now?" she asked.

"Now? You live your life. Without interference, without threat, however you choose. And someday, I hope to meet you when it's your time to die a natural death."

"Will I meet you then?"

"Perhaps." Helena's smile grew edged. "She's cruel, and uses others as tools. There's very little of her mother in her. But I have none of her flesh in my body, so perhaps I won't be so callous with lives. Time will tell."

Natasha held out her hand, and Helena gingerly took it, seeming almost awkward. That made Natasha wonder if she had ever been shown any kindness or consideration. With what she said and implied about Hel, probably not. "Until we meet again," Natasha told her, shaking her hand gently. "Maybe we'll have stories to tell each other."

She smiled, friendly and open, maybe a little relieved. "I would like that very much."

Helena stepped back through the smoky portal, and then it slowly dissipated. Natasha waved before it did, and watched until the air seemed to settle back into normalcy. Afterward, she went to her bedroom to change as she had planned to do. She had dinner with Loki and James to get ready for, and a whole life ahead of her. She couldn't wait to live it.

The End

and this is the end of the Siege series

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And that's all, folks.
> 
> Thanks for hanging in there with me until the very end! There will no doubt be more adventures for the Avengers, as Hydra and AIM and all of the powered people are still around. I've been working on a spin off series focused on Helheim here and there, and I'll put a link here when I start that one. If I didn't wrap up anything as neatly as I thought I did, let me know. You never know if there are more tales to tell in this 'verse, after all. :)


End file.
